


Masquerade

by klari19



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Memes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-11 23:55:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9044981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klari19/pseuds/klari19
Summary: From: AkaashiMy family is hosting a party next week. It’s for my sister’s Coming of Age. My parents are inviting the whole family and their partners to it.From: Kuroothats nice lol and you need a partner i suppose?[A Little Longer Than A Few Minutes Later]or not? dfkejkhr i was joking pls dont tell me i broke youi wasnt insinuating that u dont have a partner omgcause youre super nice and perfectly capable of dating someonewhy do i feel like im digging myself a deeper hole





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eijirou](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eijirou/gifts).



> [Jamie](http://eijiirou.tumblr.com/), my buddy  
> I lost control of this all  
> Happy holidays!
> 
> I had a lot of fun writing for this AU you requesed!! So much that when I first started writing this I thought it would be around 3k at most, but then... it evolved into this? :' ) I just couldn't stop writing. Also, it's my first time writing for this kind of (*clears throat* AMAZING) AU, but I hope that I made it the justice that it deserves! A huge shoutout to the fantastic [Allie](http://haikyuumon.tumblr.com), who was only supposed to be my beta for the HQ!!RarePair exchange, but also agreed to help me out with my Secret Santa nonetheless! Allie, thank you for peeling my potato <3
> 
> As for the fic, it was very much inspired by indie music, which I listened to all the while I was writing this!! By the way, the song they dance to at the party is “Let me in” by Snowmine. I suggest listening to it while you read that part for maximum feels effect! There’s a link directly in the fic but in case something happens to it, here it is: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q586jen-K40 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this humble gift I wrote for you, and please stay warm and safe and healthy this winter!! - Your Secret Santa, Clara
> 
> PS: Rated T for Too Many Memes.
> 
> On tumblr at kuroosthighz and clara-wrote-once

Akaashi sighs deeply as he stares at the text he received from his mother a few hours back.

> **From: Mom**
> 
> You’re going to your sister’s Coming of Age after-party, aren’t you?
> 
> Actually, that’s not even a question. You must go.
> 
> Also, you should bring a partner!!! You’re 24 and growing older and I haven’t even heard about dating or marriage yet, Keiji.

“Maybe because I literally have no time for such frivolities, mother?” Akaashi grumbles into the soft cushion, lying face-down on his apartment’s sofa.

“What?” a soft voice calls from somewhere to his left.

Akaashi tips his head to the side and gazes at his friend, Kenma. The man is lounging on the loveseat as he so often does, eyes stuck to his handheld device although his ears are acutely tuned to his environment. Akaashi feels like ranting about the issue and he knows Kenma will listen to him, so he decides to go for it, and elaborates.

“My sister is having her Coming of Age and my mom wants me to bring someone to the after-party…” he trails off, feeling even more soured now that he’s saying it out loud.

“But you don’t have a someone,” Kenma finishes in a murmur of his, dexterous fingers tapping the buttons quickly. Akaashi nods. Then voices his assent when he remembers that Kenma isn’t looking at him. “Well,” Kenma says. The tell-tale sound that announces a level-up reaches Akaashi’s ears before Kenma proceeds, “you could ask someone to help you out just for the occasion.”

Akaashi raises an eyebrow, bewildered. “Like… a fake date, or something?” Kenma hums and nods in reply, because he knows Akaashi  _ is  _ looking at him.

Akaashi considers the pros and cons of the idea for a moment. If he shows up to his sister’s party with a partner, his parents will certainly glow, full of joy and pride and contentment. (‘ _ Ugh _ ,’ Akaashi thinks.) He’d give them the  _ idea _ that he’s seeing someone, and after a while he could tell them that it didn’t work out, that he has other priorities, and they would probably stop bothering him about it. Seeing as the pros outweigh the cons, Akaashi nods to himself, realizing that Kenma’s suggestion might not be too crazy after all.

“So, do you want to be my so-called date?” Akaashi asks.

Kenma pauses his game and looks up, his gaze wandering far in front of him as if he was looking into a camera. He puts his handheld device on his lap and presses the tips of his fingers together, drawing in a deep breath before looking at Akaashi.

“Akaashi,” Kenma says, carefully pronouncing each syllable of his name. “I don’t do well with crowds, as you already know. I’d only make it terribly awkward for you.”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t, but I reckon that you’d be uncomfortable. Sorry I suggested it,” Akaashi offers in all honesty.

“It’s fine,” Kenma whispers and goes back to his game. Then, after a few moments he says, “You still need a date, though.”

“I do.” Akaashi balances his head from side to side, chin pressed into the pillow. He makes a mental list of the acquaintances he knows would do him such a favor:

Bokuto. Akaashi knows Kenma would “lend him” to him and that Bokuto would accept in a heartbeat, but unfortunately, he’s out of the country playing in an international volleyball championship.

Oikawa. Akaashi keeps count of the favors Oikawa owes him, and he realizes how much of a good opportunity it would be for him to pay them back, but Oikawa would also set the bar too high in case Akaashi ever plans on having a “real” partner. Especially (and only) in regards to beauty standards.

Kiyoko. She’s kind-hearted and friendly and would do anything for her friends, but Akaashi doesn’t want to intimidate the tiny little blonde that’s been running after her without Kiyoko even noticing since they graduated college.

He sighs into the cushion, again. Out of his other friends and acquaintances he doesn’t think anybody else is available or willing to go with the idea.

“Um,” Kenma calls. Akaashi turns to look at him once more, waiting for him to continue. Kenma’s fingers aren’t tapping at the buttons, but his eyes are trained on the small screen even so. “There’s—Kuroo…”

Akaashi takes a moment to answer. “You mean, Bokuto’s friend?” Of course it’s Bokuto’s friend. Of course Akaashi knows what Kuroo is.  _ Of fucking course. _

“Yeah.”

Akaashi buries his face into the cushion and lets out a sound akin to one a dying cow would make.

“Hey. At least a nerd is better than nothing,” Kenma murmurs.

✧ ✧ ✧

The problem is, Kuroo Tetsurou is not only a nerd but also a very loud, obnoxious, self-centered and meme-loving person. In other words, an overall absolute pain in the ass. It surprises Akaashi that Kuroo makes him feel so exhausted even with just  _ thinking _ about him. After all, Akaashi did go to middle school, high school  _ and _ college with none other than Bokuto Koutarou. That speaks a lot by itself, Akaashi thinks. But there’s something about Kuroo… something Akaashi can’t put his finger on, as much as he tries to figure it out, that downright upsets him.

So it’s with the will of a sloth that Akaashi registers Kuroo’s phone number (gracefully provided by Kenma from one of his and Bokuto’s daily calls) and types in a message for him.

> **From: Akaashi**
> 
> Hello, is this Kuroo Tetsurou?

He just wants to be sure that he didn’t made a typo in the number. It’s absolutely not because he’s dreading the moment when he’ll ask Kuroo  _ the question _ .

He gets his confirmation within the next two minutes, just as he is about to start picking at the skin around his nails.

> **From: Kuroo**
> 
> Yes, it is. Might I ask who this is?
> 
> **From: Akaashi**
> 
> It’s Akaashi, Bokuto and Kenma’s friend. We’ve met one or two times at the parties in Bokuto’s house.
> 
> **From: Kuroo**
> 
> akaashi!!!!! yea yea i defo remember you!! my buddy my pal who you doin?

Well, that… That’s quite a significant change of course that happened in less than twenty seconds.

Akaashi tries to rub away the frown already forming between his brows, thinking of a way to continue the conversation without making it awkward.

> **From: Akaashi**
> 
> I am doing well, thank you. How about you?
> 
> **From: Kuroo**
> 
> good to hear! and im super great thank!

But as Akaashi is typing something like  _ Glad to know you are doing okay, too _ he gets another message from Kuroo. And then another. And a few more after that. And he can’t keep up because it seems Kuroo can type at the speed of light.

> **From: Kuroo**
> 
> hey hey hope you dont mind me asking but
> 
> i cant help but wonder you know
> 
> why the sudden message
> 
> not that im complaining because reasons
> 
> jk jk dont get me wrong lmao
> 
> but im kinda curious
> 
> also sorry for asking this rn like a creep

And there goes Akaashi’s intent to beat around the bush for as long as possible.

He wants to scream into a pillow and sleep for the next thirty years. But the respect he holds for his family (although he reckons that he wouldn’t have to do this if it weren’t because of his mother’s view on relationships) is what keeps him going.

> **From: Akaashi**
> 
> It’s fine, really. Anyone would be curious when getting a text message from someone they barely know.
> 
> **From: Kuroo**
> 
> mhmm
> 
> tho i do know you. we know each other
> 
> just not that much
> 
> but were acquainted
> 
> kinda
> 
> anyway please continue

Akaashi exhales deep and long into his closed fist, willing himself to remain calm while trying to to come up with something to explain the situation and prevent making it more complicated than it already feels like. Or weirder, for that matter.

> **From: Akaashi**
> 
> My family is hosting a party next week. It’s for my sister’s Coming of Age. My parents are inviting the whole family and their partners to it.

He presses enter, figuring that it will do for the moment while he thinks about the next part of the explanation.

He doesn’t expect Kuroo to send a reply only seconds after he’s sent his message.

> **From: Kuroo**
> 
> thats nice lol and you need a partner i suppose?

Akaashi stares at his phone for a minute, dumbfounded. He doesn’t realize that he’s gaping a little. He doesn’t realize that time is passing slowly as he keeps staring at the small screen. He doesn’t realize that Kuroo is probably waiting for an answer until he gets another message from him.

> **From: Kuroo**
> 
> or not? dfkejkhr i was joking pls dont tell me i broke you
> 
> i wasnt insinuating that u dont have a partner omg
> 
> cause youre super nice and perfectly capable of dating someone
> 
> why do i feel like im digging myself a deeper hole
> 
> akaashi u there? ;;
> 
> sorry for getting ahead of myself aaa
> 
> i didnt mean to be r00d
> 
> **From: Akaashi**
> 
> You didn’t do anything wrong. You actually got it right.
> 
> **From: Kuroo**
> 
> i??? did???????
> 
> wow

Now all that remains is to see how he’ll truly react to the idea.  _ That _ is still a mystery for Akaashi.

> **From: Akaashi**
> 
> So… are you, like, okay with this?
> 
> **From: Kuroo**
> 
> of&&????? course????????????
> 
> akaashi im
> 
> omfg
> 
> sobs this is an honor i do not deserve
> 
> a mongrel like me??
> 
> to be asked to be your boyfriend for an entire party??
> 
> i wouldve never thought this would happen
> 
> **_Kuroo sent an image_ **
> 
> **_ _ **

Akaashi feels stupid for ever doubting about how Kuroo would react. He sighs and shakes his head at himself, pleased that the situation is finally settled—although dreading its outcome.

> **From: Akaashi**
> 
> You are not a mongrel Kuroo-san. And it’s nothing big, really.

He’s feeding Kuroo’s ego with that first bit and he knows it, but for some reason he couldn’t stop himself from typing it in.

> **From: Kuroo**
> 
> youre right. you picked the hottest guy in town ;)

Akaashi runs his hand over his whole face, stretching the skin under his slim fingers and sighing deeply into his palm.

> **From: Kuroo**
> 
> anyway it is A Big bc
> 
> nvm my fingers got ahead of my brain lol

Frowning a little, Akaashi wonders what was what Kuroo almost wrote in his first message. But he doesn’t get the chance to ask as Kuroo quickly drifts back to the main reason of the conversation.

> **From: Kuroo**
> 
> so when is it? where? i suppose i have to wear formal right
> 
> **From: Akaashi**
> 
> The party will be next Saturday evening and it will be held at the Akaashi villa in the countryside. And, yes, you must wear a formal attire.
> 
> **From: Kuroo**
> 
> yyyyyyyeeeeeeeaaaaassssssssssss
> 
> sounds good im so ready akaashi
> 
> ill make sure to look bomb to make your fam proud <3
> 
> **From: Akaashi**
> 
> I’m sure you’ll look good, but please don’t go out of your way just for my sake.
> 
> **From: Kuroo**
> 
> is that a compliment omg :3c
> 
> but akaashi
> 
> for you
> 
> anything tbh

✧ ✧ ✧

They keep on texting back and forth regularly over the next week, both of them trying to get to know each other a bit better before they present themselves as an “established couple” to Akaashi’s parents.

During that time, Akaashi learns that Kuroo has three cats and is doing a Masters in Biochemistry, that he’s been living alone since he was twenty and really likes bubble tea. Kuroo gets to know that Akaashi played volleyball during high school (“really??! same here! its a pity that we never played against each other!!”) and, after taking a year off of studies, finally decided to go to art school where he now works as an assistant teacher, that his favorite subjects are flowers and owls, and that he likes baking.

And, surprisingly... Akaashi catches himself wanting to know more about this man. Even though it often ends up with Kuroo bragging about whatever “special ability” he has. Like belching the alphabet.

The day before the party, they come to the agreement that Akaashi will pick up Kuroo at his place towards 4pm and that they’ll drive together to the villa afterwards.

And that’s how Akaashi finds himself fidgeting and shivering (because why on earth did he think his suit would substitute a coat in the middle of winter in Tokyo) on the doorstep of Kuroo’s apartment complex, waiting for the door to be opened after he rang Kuroo’s apartment doorbell a few moments ago.

“Hey!” Kuroo says when he swings the door open, a grin plastered on his face. His expression, though, soon turns into a concerned frown as he asks, “Holy shit, aren’t you cold?”

“L-let’s just—go to the car,” Akaashi murmurs hurriedly, his jaw tightening from the cold even as he speaks and making him stutter.

Kuroo laughs loudly at that, comfortable and snuggly wrapped up in his winter coat, but nods to Akaashi nonetheless. He closes and locks the door as quickly as possible and follows Akaashi down the stairs of the complex.

At the driver’s door, Akaashi struggles to slide the key into the hole. He swears under his breath, damning his shaking fingers and the cold weather. He starts a little when he realizes Kuroo is no longer waiting by the passenger door but is standing beside him.

“Want me to do it?” Kuroo asks. “I can drive, too, so that you can warm up a bit…”

Akaashi doesn’t know, doesn’t understand why he sounds so  _ caring _ , why his expression is so  _ soft _ when he looks at him while saying that. He agrees without thinking too much about it, practically running to the passenger door on the other side of the car.

Soon, both of them are inside the car. Akaashi’s fingers feel numb, but he still manages to turn the heat on while Kuroo fixes the seat and mirrors to accommodate him. Akaashi can’t help the sigh of contentment that leaves his lips when he feels the warm air starting to fill the space. As for himself, Kuroo engages smoothly into the circulation of the street, focused on getting them to the highway without getting stuck into traffic.

“So, I noticed earlier…” Kuroo trails off for a second, eyes trained on the road ahead while Akaashi looks at him from the side. “Shouldn’t we call each other by our given names, Keiji?” He takes his eyes off the road for a split second to look at Akaashi when he says his name, smiling around the syllables.

Akaashi feels the blood pump twice in his ears at that. Formalities are very important for him, and he’s only known Kuroo “well” for a week. It seems a little too soon but… at the same time… it feels kind of special when Kuroo says it, for some reason. And it’s also necessary for their acting.

“You’re right,” Akaashi concedes. “Tetsurou,” he finishes in a whisper a small moment later

Out of the corner of his eye, Akaashi sees Kuroo’s already wide grin become bigger. He rolls his eyes and presses his head against the window, gazing at the horizon in the distance and the quickly darkening sky overhead. He feels warmer now and far more relaxed.

That’s when he notices how calm and composed Kuroo is in real life compared to on the phone or in a party. He shakes his head a little, a breathy smile on his lips. He’s still waiting to see how he’ll be like around other people—around his family—and must admit that he’s sweated a lot while thinking about what could happen. Nonetheless…

“Thank you,” Akaashi murmurs after a long moment of quiet peacefulness between the two of them.

“Hm?” Kuroo inquires, seemingly confused.

“Thank you, for agreeing to this. I appreciate your help.”

Kuroo chuckles softly, easily. “It’s a pleasure, really.”

They’re now on the highway; a vast expanse of asphalt unravels before them as they go. It’s about half an hour until they reach their destination and Akaashi has no idea if he should try to make small conversation, or remain quiet. He doesn’t mind silence at all when it’s a peaceful and comfortable one, but with Kuroo in the same space as him… he feels like he  _ should _ talk. What about, he has no idea.

Kuroo, seemingly unfazed by the awkward situation, soon becomes its savior without even realizing it. “Tell me a bit more about your parents?” Kuroo asks, gaze serious and steady on the road ahead.

Akaashi sighs softly, feeling his stomach contract nervously as he thinks about what’s in store for them in the next few hours. “Well, my mother is a politics enthusiast, so expect questions about your position and opinion on different kinds of matters…”

✧ ✧ ✧

They easily spot the villa from afar. It’s glowing, all lit up and bustling with activity as more family members and their guests arrive. Akaashi feels his nervousness levels grow while the distance between the car and the house shortens. This is it. He’ll present Kuroo to his family and make them believe that they are dating just so that he gets them to shut up about his relationship status. He wonders if it’ll work. He wonders if either of them will blow up their cover. He wonders—

“You’re biting your nails. Relax,” Kuroo murmurs then in a soft chuckle, snapping Akaashi out of his daze.

Akaashi turns to look at him wide-eyed out of anxiety, instantly realizing that, yes, he’s murdering his nails. He immediately removes his hands from his mouth and presses them into his lap, balling his fists while he feels color rise to his cheeks in embarrassment. “Sorry, that’s not elegant at all,” he mumbles.

“Pff, you don’t have to worry about that with me,” Kuroo replies. “I’m just a little worried now. How bad will it be?” he asks with a slight frown.

When Akaashi doesn’t respond and instead fidgets in his seat, Kuroo turns to look at him with a horrified expression.

“Alright,” Kuroo whispers, gazing through the windshield once more to try to look for a place to park the car. “Okay, everything’s fine. We’ll be okay. No worries. We just have to—”

“Breathe.”

“Exactly.”

“You’re not doing a good job at it,” Akaashi comments.

“Neither are you,” comes the counterstrike.

The car finally comes to a stop as Kuroo parks it near the main entrance. Both men look at each other then, quickly taking in the nervousness mirrored in the other’s expression. They can’t help but burst into a fit of giggles, laughing so hard that they need to clutch their sides when they finally close the doors of the car and stand outside. Kuroo exhales deeply as they begin walking towards the entrance, laughter still bubbling in his throat as he wipes away a stray tear from the corner of his eye. Akaashi still has a small smile on his lips even though he’s trying not to shiver from the cold.

“Don’t worry, Keiji. We’ll be spectacular,” Kuroo whispers, grasping Akaashi’s hand in his and squeezing it gently. Akaashi believes him wholeheartedly, despite having felt so averse to the simple idea of being near Kuroo at first.

As they walk hand in hand towards the main entrance, Akaashi distantly thinks, “ _ And so, the show begins.” _

✧ ✧ ✧

If Akaashi had known he’d risk having multiple heart attacks, for many different reasons, by being around his “partner” Kuroo at his sister’s party he would have rather taken Kenma with him even though his friend would have tried to convince him not to.

Akaashi has to literally look away and find something else to stare at in the wide entrance, coughing into his fist like his lungs are going to come up his throat the moment he sees Kuroo shrug off his winter coat.

“Ak—Keiji?! Are you okay?” Kuroo asks from behind Akaashi’s back.

There’s rustling and hurried steps, and then Akaashi can’t evade the sight anymore because now it’s _right_ _in front of him._

When Kuroo had mentioned that he’d “look bomb” Akaashi never imagined that he’d make him feel like his heart was exploding.

Kuroo—who, Akaashi had noticed back in the car, had taken the time to style his hair by brushing and slicking it a bit so as not to make it look like a bird’s nest—is wearing a tightly fitted dark burgundy suit for the occasion. The look is completed with a white undershirt and a black tie, and in all honesty, the outfit looks very far from bad on him. Not. Bad. At. All.

Akaashi wheezes loudly and mentally screams at himself, completely and utterly confused as to why he’s reacting in such a way to the sight. Meanwhile, Kuroo pats his shoulder gently and occasionally rubs soothing circles over his back. When he finally feels mostly back in control of himself, Akaashi dares looking up at Kuroo’s face, finding fright and concern and bewilderment all at once.

“You’re not asthmatic, are you?” Kuroo asks in a small voice.

Akaashi thinks he might be, now. “I’m not. It’s fine, thank you,” he responds instead.

Kuroo looks at him with an expression that reads profound doubt. He nods nonetheless, although quite hesitantly. And as he tightens his grip on Akaashi’s shoulder just a little and opens his mouth to say something else—

“Keiji, there you are.” His father’s soft voice is easily recognizable in between the background noise filling the entrance.

Both Akaashi and Kuroo look to him at the same time, finding not only Akaashi’s father but his mother too and both of them wearing gentle smiles on their faces. Kuroo immediately releases his shoulder and steps to Akaashi’s side, back straight and eyes trained on Akaashi’s parents only.

Akaashi takes an involuntary deep inhale. “Dad, Mom, this is Kuroo Tetsurou, my—partner.” He almost chokes on the last word and hopes that his insecurity doesn’t show from the outside.

Kuroo bows deeply beside him, then shakes hands with both of his parents. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” Kuroo says, a gorgeous (yes, gorgeous, Akaashi must admit) smile parting his lips with unmatched ease. “I’ve heard a lot from you.”

“But we haven’t heard a thing about you!” Akaashi’s mother exclaims in that soft timbre of hers, surprised yet gleeful. “I didn’t even know Keiji was dating until now!”

Kuroo chuckles at that. It’s a deep and smooth sound, very pleasant to hear unlike the usual crazy and hyena laugh Akaashi has sometimes heard back in Bokuto’s house.

“I just hope Keiji wasn’t too embarrassed of me to say anything…” Kuroo says, nudging Akaashi’s shoulder playfully.

“I—was not… I was just unable to find the time to give a call in the middle of all the work I’ve been doing lately,” Akaashi explains. It’s a bit of a lame excuse, he thinks. His parents nod nonetheless, understanding.

Kuroo pushes it further. “Aw, it’s okay. You’re forgiven, my love,” he murmurs while wrapping an arm around Akaashi’s shoulders and pulling him flush against his side.

Akaashi has to snake his own arm around Kuroo’s waist and lean his head into his shoulder so as not to look awkward. He hopes that his smile doesn’t look too forced from the nervousness he feels inside. Though the pressure and warmth of Kuroo’s body against his is somewhat… soothing.

Akaashi’s parents look at each other, fond smiles forming on their lips. Akaashi knows that they must be thinking,  _ ‘Our boy is finally getting himself a life’ _ and he wishes, oh how he wishes, he could roll his eyes at that. But he needs to remain calm until the end; he needs his and Kuroo’s lie to be one-hundred-percent believable.

Clearing his throat, Akaashi decides to make the conversation move onto a more comfortable topic for himself. “Um, we’re both a bit hungry. Is there anything to eat?”

“There’s plenty,” his father says. “Come on, you two, let’s enjoy the party properly…”

✧ ✧ ✧

“Properly” though, by his parents’ standards, generally means having a very political discussion lead by Akaashi’s mother and including a few of the family members and guests. Unfortunately, Kuroo finds himself swept up into the heated discussion after he and Akaashi take a few bites of the luxurious food offered for the occasion. Akaashi doubts Kuroo be able to take his leave from the talk soon, but at least he doesn’t seem to look annoyed from where Akaashi is looking at him.

And the place where he is, is none other than the bar. After a while and with a glass of champagne into his system Akaashi feels calmer now. He no longer feels the imminent danger of being discovered… Everything is going fine…

That is, until he spots his sister emerging from the crowd dancing smoothly in the center of the wide room.

“Keiji!” she exclaims, and Akaashi wishes he would be swallowed by the wooden counter he’s leaning against.

“Hey, how are you?” he asks when she comes to a halt in front of him. Standing up from the stool he moves to embrace her in a tight hug; her long smooth hair tickles his nose a little. “Congratulations, by the way.”

“Thank you,” she murmurs back, then moves to sit beside him. “And I’m doing just fine! I know it’s a big thing, 20 years old, but I don’t feel particularly different…” she says while ducking her head a little, smiling behind the curtain of her black hair. She looks up at him a moment later, eyes sparkling with happiness. “But I’m glad you’re all here. And I heard that you came with someone?”

Now it’s Akaashi’s turn to duck his head, for different reasons though. “Yeah… See the tall guy with black hair? In the deep red suit?” He moves his hand in the general direction of where Kuroo can be seen nodding in all seriousness at something Akaashi’s mother just said.

Her eyes widen and her lips fall open when she spots him. She turns to look at Akaashi, lips slowly upturning into a smile. “ _ Keiji! _ ”

“What?”

She bursts laughing and shoves at him playfully. It’s meant to be cool siblings’ play but Akaashi almost falls from his stool. He quickly rights himself and smooths the front of his suit. He looks at his sister with his head tilted to the side, an eyebrow raised in confusion.

“Lucky you! He’s hot!” she explains between bursts of laughter.

Akaashi shakes his head and exhales a laugh. “I’m not going to comment on that.” He  _ really _ doesn’t want to think too hard on that right now. Besides, he’s one to know that underneath that façade of his, Kuroo can be quite—different, and not really in the best of ways.

_ “But… is this really a façade and not the other way around?”  _ Akaashi mentally wonders for a moment, then blames that stray thought on the (small amount of) alcohol he’s had and gently shakes his head again.

He and his sister keep on talking for a while more, exchanging on work and school matters as well as just general things. They catch up on what they haven’t been able to tell each other since the last time they were able to see one another—which was a long time ago. Then, at one point, Akaashi gets his sister’s index finger jammed into his ribs.

“Ow! What is it? You’re being quite violent ton—”

“He’s coming this way!” she whisper-shouts at him.

When Akaashi gazes the other way Kuroo is waving at him while making his way to the bar. He waves back and gives him a warm smile just to satisfy his sister.

Akaashi clears his throat lightly. “Let me introduce you… This is Kuroo Tetsurou. Tetsurou, this is my sister,” he says once Kuroo has reached them.

“Nice to meet you!” she says, bowing her head lightly.

“Likewise,” Kuroo responds with a toothy smile, bending a little at the waist. Then, “Phew, your mother is incredible!” he says and grabs a champagne flute for himself from the counter behind Akaashi.

Akaashi’s sister snorts at that. “I’d rather say that she’s a little too passionate about her topics. Didn’t you feel the pressure?”

Kuroo slides a quick, dubious look in Akaashi’s direction and he replies with a contained smile and a short nod.

“Well—um. Yeah, a little,” Kuroo finally says, chuckling softly while scratching the back of his neck.

Both Akaashi and his sister laugh at that. “It’s just the way she is, don’t worry about it. And it’s what made our father fall in love with her,” she says while looking at her smiling parents at the other end of the room. “The champagne will help you ease off some of the tension though,” she says while directing her gaze back to Kuroo and pointing at the glass held between his long fingers.

“I’m sure it will, but I’d also like to dance for a bit, too. That could help with another someone’s relaxation,” Kuroo looks directly into Akaashi’s eyes as he says that, his lips quirking up to one side.

“Wha—” If Akaashi heard him right, and he’s mostly sure that he did, he is moments away from embarrassing himself not only in front of his family (again) but also in front of Kuroo (for the first and hopefully the last time).

Kuroo downs his drink in one gulp and puts it back on the counter. He looks into Akaashi’s eyes with a smile wider than before. “Let’s go,” he says and, without waiting for a response, grabs Akaashi’s hand and drags him to the center of the room where the makeshift dancefloor is.

“Kuroo, I can’t—dance. At all,” Akaashi murmurs, slightly panicked, once they’re pressed against each other in the middle of the other dancers, their hands on each other’s waists and shoulders.

Kuroo grins down at him. “Allow me to teach you, then…” He gently pries Akaashi’s hand away from his shoulder and craddles it in his palm at their side. Next, Kuroo wraps his arm tighter around Akaashi’s waist and presses their bodies flush from chest to thigh. Then, he begins swaying their bodies gently to the soft beat of the music.

“Just let yourself go,” he whispers into Akaashi’s ear, his mouth very close to it and his breath tickling the short hair there. “Your feet will start moving on their own once you stop thinking about anything logical.”

Honestly, it’s Akaashi’s heart that’s moving and taking wild decisions on its own in that moment. Plus, he’s been thinking about illogical things all evening. Gulping down, Akaashi prays that Kuroo can’t feel his heart thump heavily against his ribcage.

Despite the initial unease, though, soon Akaashi starts feeling like his feet are beginning to guide his movements more naturally, just as Kuroo said. He can’t help but feel himself smile a little as he realizes that he is, truly and undeniably, dancing without stepping on someone’s feet or tripping on his own for the very first time in his life.

“Enjoying yourself?”

Akaashi looks up, smiling still. “Yeah…”

Kuroo smiles back at him and chuckles softly. “I’m glad.” Akaashi swears his breath didn’t hitch then.

They hold each other’s gazes for a moment, hearing the song finish and another start ([x](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q586jen-K40)), adapting their steps seamlessly to the new melody. 

“By the way, you look really good in that suit,” Kuroo says after a while, grinning. “The blue really complements your green eyes.”

Akaashi averts his gaze, surprised and abashed at the honesty in Kuroo’s tone. “Um, thanks. I—could say the same thing about you…” he stutters at last.

“Ohoho? Thank you.” Kuroo waggles his brows at him, and Akaashi rolls his eyes.

The soft vocals of the song rise through the speakers overhead, and Akaashi can’t help but listen to the lyrics as he looks up again into Kuroo’s eyes and practices his (very rusty) listening comprehension skills in English.

_ If you could keep it together _

_ For a moment in time _

_ Then you would see that I’d be _

_ Your excuse for a lover, _

_ Your own mountain to climb _

_ You would see… _

Kuroo’s eyes wander around the room after that. Akaashi isn’t sure if it’s a trick of the light but a shadow seems to fall over his features as he glances at the people dancing and chatting all around. It’s gone too soon though, as moments later Kuroo’s gaze falls back on Akaashi with his eyebrows raised in mock disbelief.

“It’s a little funny and… I don’t want to say ‘creepy’ but it kinda is,” Kuroo says, shaking his head a little. “Anyway, can you feel it? All the staring?”

Akaashi doesn’t even have to ask or look to understand who Kuroo is talking about—namely, both of his parents, his sister and probably over two thirds of his family.

“I do…” he whispers in reply, feeling a shiver course all the way up his spine as he actually begins to feel the burning pressure in the back of his neck.

Kuroo tightens his grip on both Akaashi’s waist and his hand, and leans closer to his face, leaving their noses but a breath apart. Kuroo’s eyes and smile are full of mischief when he murmurs, “Come on, Keiji. Let’s give them a show.”

“A sh—?!”

Akaashi’s breath catches in his throat when Kuroo’s lips press softly against his, kicking all rational thoughts away from Akaashi’s mind. He’s quickly sucked in by the warmth of his touch, eyelids fluttering close and body voluntarily leaning into the kiss. Kuroo’s hand releases Akaashi’s and comes up to cup his cheek gently, thumb brushing over Akaashi’s cheek, oh, so sweetly. Their lips glide slowly against each other as Kuroo tilts his head to the side, applying just a tad more pressure onto Akaashi’s mouth. Akaashi’s hand, now free from Kuroo’s, automatically goes to Kuroo’s shoulder to keep himself grounded to reality. Then, as if in a trance, Akaashi feels his palms gliding slowly over the fabric of the suit to cup the back of Kuroo’s neck and brush the shorter hairs there.

Melting, drowning and imploding, all at the same time. That’s how Akaashi feels. Or as if his soul is being slowly sucked out by Kuroo’s lips on his. Or as if he’s dead and Kuroo is performing CPR on him. He doesn’t know and he doesn’t really care anymore, too focused on the tiny sparks he feels on his lips as Kuroo’s keep brushing them and on the warmth in his belly which is still tightly pressed against Kuroo’s.

It’s right then that Akaashi realizes that this idea might have been the greatest and the worst one possible ever in the history of forever. And he’s going to blame it all on Kenma the next time he sees him.

✧ ✧ ✧

They don’t talk much after that. They don’t talk about the dance or the kiss. They don’t talk about the joyful looks Akaashi’s parents gave them when they drank another glass of champagne with their arms wrapped around each other’s waists. They don’t talk about the gentle pats on the back or knowing (of what, really?) smile Akaashi’s sister gave them as they excused themselves from the party. They don’t talk in the silence of the car on the way back. They barely say goodbye once they’re back at Kuroo’s apartment complex. And, the next week, never once do they text each other again.

In short, Akaashi cuts all communication with Kuroo.

And he has no idea why he’s doing that.

He doesn’t know what to think or feel or conclude from Kuroo’s behavior back at the party. Akaashi knows that it was all for show, every word and every gesture delicately put up to transmit a perfect lie to Akaashi’s family. And it worked… wonderfully. Which is what makes Akaashi rage the most, because his parents keep on reminding him that Kuroo  _ can _ be an “absolutely wonderful” guy.

> **From: Dad**
> 
> I am glad to know that you are in a relationship with such a respectable man.
> 
> **From: Mom**
> 
> I still have many things to discuss with Kuroo-kun! When will we see him again?

“Ugh.  _ Never _ , mom! Oh, for the love of everything holy…” Akaashi moans into his pillow, throwing his phone over his back and hearing a mute thump as it lands on the carpet by the feet of his bed.

But it was all fake, wasn’t it? Kuroo’s gentleness and care and elegance… it was all part of the show, right? Because Akaashi knows what he is like in the “real” life. Akaashi has seen his true side… He knows about his ugly laugh and boisterousness, his arrogance and self-centeredness, about his unhealthy love for memes— No. That’s not all.

He knows that Kuroo is also an applied and diligent student, that his soft spot are kitties, that he has a sweet tooth and that he’s responsible for himself. Akaashi knows that he’s caring and that his humor has other, more pleasant sides. Akaashi knows that, back in the car when they were heading to the party—that was not a show. Kuroo was exposing his real, true, unmasked side then. But for what purpose, then? That’s what Akaashi ignores.

Akaashi screams into his pillow, for real this time, and drives his fist into the soft mattress multiple times until he can’t do it anymore. He lays there, exhausted, panting and wheezing into the fabric.

He hates Kuroo.

He doesn’t get him and doesn’t understand how he, himself, feels about Kuroo. Therefore he hates him. And himself, but that’s not as important as hating Kuroo.

Yes, now Akaashi hates Kuroo even more than he’s ever hated him. Because, boy oh boy, he has hated Kuroo ever since he first saw him at Bokuto’s house with that stupid lopsided grin hanging on his lips and dressed with that loose and revealing black tank top and tight leather pants, both tremendously unfitting and horrid. Absolutely loathsome.

And Akaashi would be perfectly fine if he was the only one pretending to ignore everything that happened that night. But Kuroo also seems to be part of the game as he has seemingly voluntarily kept himself from texting Akaashi, for reasons completely unknown and totally irrelevant to him.

Akaashi jumps when his phone’s ringtone goes off. He scrambles off his bed to pick the phone up from the floor and answer, sitting down cross-legged over the pile of unmade sheets on his bed.

“Hey, haven’t heard from you in, like, days. Did the party kill you?” Is Kenma’s introduction.

Akaashi groans, switching his phone from one ear to the other without actually responding.

“Wow. Sounds like it went wrong? Was it Kuroo?”

“No—I mean—Just…” Akaashi trails off with a pathetic sigh, shoulders hunching.

“That doesn’t imply anything good,” Kenma says in his usual tone, the one that appears uncaring to strangers but carries a lot of meaning to the ones who know him. “Koutarou is back. We’ll be there in ten, stay put.”

✧ ✧ ✧

Just as Kenma promised, he and Bokuto stand at Akaashi’s doorstep ten minutes after the end of the call. The sun is setting and neither of them have work or any other obligations at this hour, so Akaashi has no choice but to let them in even though he’s not ready for, nor willing to engage in the conversation about to come.

“My man! Don’t look so down!” Bokuto exclaims, his words accompanied by a hard slap to Akaashi’s back.

Akaashi coughs, rolling his shoulders a little to release some of the tension caused by the impact, and nods solemnly. He lets both of them lead the way to his living room, only then noticing the bag Kenma is carrying with him.

“Kenma, what’s that?” Akaashi asks, quirking an eyebrow.

“Mm? Oh, just some beer. Bokuto said it would help you unwind, which I agree with.”

“Yup, yup!” Bokuto twirls around and grips Akaashi by the shoulders, shaking him wildly. “You look  _ awful _ so you need something to cheer you up!”

Akaashi frowns, wishing that he would have just stayed in bed and not gotten up to open the door. But he knows that he would have felt terribly guilty and even more terrible if he’d actually done that.

“Okay,” he says, gently patting Bokuto’s hand on his shoulder.

Bokuto grins back at him and releases him, moving to plop down on the loveseat while Kenma rummages into the kitchen drawers. The latter comes back to the small living room to find Akaashi slothing face-down on the sofa. Sighing, he slides the bottle of beer into the hand curled nearest Akaashi’s face then goes to sit on Bokuto’s lap with the remaining two beers.

Akaashi sits up just enough to be able to sip at his beer then gazes at the two men sitting before him, staring intently at him. He’s taken aback by the intensity in Kenma’s eyes and confused by the excitement apparent in Bokuto’s expression.

“Wh-what,” he stutters. “Are you waiting for me to start talking?”

Kenma and Bokuto look at each other, then back at Akaashi and nod. “Yeah,” they say in a single voice.

Groaning, Akaashi rights himself onto the sofa and puts the beer bottle between his legs, keeping a hand around its neck to prevent it from falling. His other hand rakes through his hair, causing it to become wilder than it already is.

“The party was—fine. Kuroo’s show had everyone believing in our relationship from the moment we first stepped into the house. We had some food and drinks and my family spoke with him and it was okay. That’s all.”

Bokuto snorts and Kenma shushes him gently. “That’s clearly not all,” Kenma says softly. “Please elaborate,” he makes a vague hand gesture towards Akaashi.

Akaashi takes a long gulp of his drink then fixes the bore of the bottle, unable to make eye contact with either men who are silently prompting him to continue. “I don’t know. Kuroo was a goddamn gentleman all the way through the party and before it even started. He was caring and gentle and—we kissed?”

Risking a glance in Kenma’s direction, Akaashi sees him nodding thoughtfully.

“So what’s the problem?” Kenma’s brows are slightly furrowed when he asks.

“I don’t know…” Akaashi laments. “I’m just—I hate him. He confuses me. He’s too good but also too much of an asshole and I have no idea which side of him is the real one and I hate that.” Actually, he knows but also he doesn’t know. Which is basically the same.

“Wow,” Kenma breathes.

“He’s too fucking smooth. He’s a public health hazard,” Akaashi continues, taking another sip of his drink. “He’s conceited and selfless at the same time—can you? Even believe that?!” he exclaims, raising a hand in the air. Bokuto and Kenma shake their heads, mostly in surprise to see Akaashi demonstrate such energy and exasperation in his tone. “Neither can I,” Akaashi says.

“I don’t understand, though,” Kenma says, scratching the top of his head while Bokuto runs a soothing hand over his thigh, sympathetic. “Why are you making such a fuss about this?”

“Honestly?!” Akaashi says, a little louder than he’d intended to. He clears his throat and tries to compose himself back again. “Honestly, I don’t know.”

“Then have you tried talking about it with Kuroo?” Bokuto inquires. “Because, like, it just  _ seems _ to me that you should talk with him. Just to make this all clear. It’s just a suggestion, though.”

Akaashi looks at him with a confused frown, mouth ajar. He thinks he hears Kenma murmur  _ Don’t say anything more, _ but he’s not quite sure. He shakes his head a little. “I haven’t spoken with him nor texted him since we came back.”

“Wow,” Kenma says again.

“And he hasn’t communicated with me either,” he adds for good measure.

“How long has it been?” Kenma asks.

“A week… and a half?”

Bokuto and Kenma blink twice then whisper, “Wow.”

“I know, ugh,” Akaashi groans, eyes screwed shut and fingers pulling at his hair.

“And you’ve been moping all this time?” Bokuto asks.

Akaashi shoots him a glare. “I haven’t been moping.”

“Right, uh… You’ve been…” he trails off, pale brows furrowing deeply as he looks for a replacement word.

“In any case,” Kenma says, “you should definitely talk to him. The sooner the better.”

Akaashi finishes his bottle and puts it down on the coffee table. “Okay… Not tonight though,” he murmurs, feeling the beer’s warmth sit low in his belly and begin prompting him to go to bed.

“Yeah, that sounds alright. But do it. Tomorrow, if you can,” Kenma says, starting to get up.

Bokuto hums his assent. “We’ll let you get a good night’s rest, Akaashi.”

Akaashi nods at both of them. “Thank you for coming,” he whispers, an inevitable smile pulling up the corners of his lips. “It’s—I appreciate it a lot.”

“Anytime!” Bokuto says, and Kenma nods. “You stay right where you are, we’ll see ourselves out.”

After the front door closes behind Bokuto and Kenma, Akaashi remains sprawled on his sofa for a while longer. He stares at the ceiling, trying to empty his mind of any thought, good or bad. And it works—for a while. He decides to go to sleep when he starts thinking about what he could possibly tell Kuroo when they get to talk again, convincing himself that he’ll take care of all that when morning comes.

If anyone ever asks him, he did not,  _ absolutely not _ dream about Kuroo that night.

✧ ✧ ✧

The next day Akaashi wakes up feeling refreshed. He makes himself a healthy breakfast, does his laundry, gets ready to go to the faculty…

Who is he kidding, really. The only thing that’s been in his mind since he woke up is Kuroo Tetsurou, and he is  _ a little _ fed up by his inability to stop thinking about him. He just hopes that a proper day of work will get his mind off this unnecessary stress.

It seems like everything and everyone is against that idea, though.

“Wow, Akaashi. You look like shit!” Oikawa says in his usual sweet tone when Akaashi walks into the classroom-slash-studio.

Akaashi just sighs and rolls his eyes as he passes by him. “I look perfectly fine, thank you very much.”

Oikawa’s laughter fills the room as he undresses himself and goes to sprawl himself on the sofa placed in the center of a circle of chairs, waiting for the nude figure drawing class to start. Some of the students are already seated and preparing their tools while more are coming in through the door. All of them are chatting happily about random things, class matters, life happenings and whatnot. Akaashi wishes he could be as carefree as they are.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Sugawara asks him, pale brows furrowed in concern. As a teacher and generally very caring person, his personal duty is to make sure that everyone in the class, be it students or staff, are doing well.

Akaashi nods. “Yes… Just—I’ve got a lot of things in my mind.” He knows he can’t lie to Sugawara but he also doesn’t really want to tell him the truth.

Class begins with Sugawara explaining the lesson, and then the students are free to begin sketching Oikawa. Small talk is made between the class attendants, discussions which are often joined in by Oikawa and his insatiable thirst for gossip. There’s soft laughter caused by jokes and anecdotes. Some questions are murmured every once in a while, many of which Akaashi gives the answers to while Sugawara gives technique advice and suggestions.

“Adonis wants to know, though,” Oikawa says after a while, and with his limbs carefully arranged to bring out the elegance of his lithe body he truly looks like a Greek god about to make a legitimate request, “why do you look so down, dearest Akaashi?”

Speaking about gods, if there are any above…

“It’s kind of—personal,” Akaashi offers carefully.

“Ohh, but I love personal!” Oikawa says, cheerful. “Don’t we all love personal?” he asks to the classroom. Many students hum their approval, and a sort of eager anticipation begins to fill the atmosphere.

“Speaking about it could make you feel better, Akaashi,” Sugawara adds, softly.

Akaashi pinches the bridge of his nose and exhales, gripping the backrest of a student’s seat for support. Although Akaashi doesn’t particularly enjoy Oikawa’s enthusiasm regarding the prospect on peeking into Akaashi’s personal life he has to admit that Sugawara is right. The talk with Bokuto and Kenma was already good, but not exactly fruitful for Akaashi. Maybe now…

“I’m—confused. About a certain someone’s behavior,” Akaashi begins, careful not to let any big details slip into his explanation. “I recently had to take them to an event with me, as a sort of escort for myself you could say? But… I got to see two completely different and opposing sides of them and now I don’t know which one is the real one.”

Whoa, what a succinct and vague explanation. He reasons Oikawa’s skillful mind will somehow manage to find some sort of solution to it. And he’s not sure whether that’s something good or bad.

Oikawa hums thoughtfully at that. “Did they cause a scene at this event?”

“No…”

“So, what happens is that you knew about their ‘bad’ side but then you got to see their ‘good’ side?”

Fuck Oikawa and his extraordinary mind, to be honest. “Yes, precisely.”

“I’m just a little curious. How bad is this ‘bad’ side of them?”

Akaashi closes his eyes and thinks about it, again. “They’re just really annoying. And arrogant, too. Kind of like you.”

Oikawa gasps. “But I’m not like that?! Is that a popular opinion? Does anyone else think that here?” A few students raise their hand, the one that’s not holding their pen. Even Sugawara raises his. “I feel betrayed,” Oikawa says without heat. “In any case, this reminds me about Iwa-chan.”

When Akaashi looks at Oikawa he sees a fond smile parting his lips. It’s probably the first time he’s seen such an honest and un-exaggerated expression on Oikawa’s face, even when talking about his boyfriend.

“In what way, may we know?” Sugawara asks. Akaashi nods, silently prompting him to elaborate, too.

“Oh,” Oikawa murmurs, his smile widening. “He was just like that to me for a long time: very confusing! One moment he’d be angry at me, telling me that I overwork myself too much, and the next one he’d give me a cup of hot chocolate and rub my shoulders. He was just this small awkward boy trying to convey his feelings without manag—Hey! Akaashi, I haven’t finished! Where are you going like that?!”

Akaashi sprints out the room, distantly hearing the commotion he caused by fleeing so fast and without even giving an explanation, but he cares very little about it all. He’ll explain it another time.

Because now he needs to see Kuroo.

He still doesn’t understand what’s going on with himself or with Kuroo. He’s still clueless as to why they suddenly became complete strangers after having to pretend that they were life-partners. He doesn’t even know if he’s making the right decision by doing this in the middle of a weekday but he knows that he definitely needs to see Kuroo and talk to him. And that he needs to do that  _ now. _

✧ ✧ ✧

Akaashi punches Kuroo’s apartment doorbell repeatedly, his hard breathing making white clouds appear in front of his mouth. He’s exhausted from dashing down the college halls to his car, speeding through the city, and finally running up the stairs of the entrance to the apartment complex, but he’s going to use up the last bits of his energy to make Kuroo come down to meet him.

He doesn’t even think about the possibility that Kuroo might actually not be in his apartment while he keeps the button pushed and bangs on the door with his free hand, shouting “Kuroo, open the goddamn door!” at the wood.

Suddenly his fist hits into empty space and Akaashi realizes it’s because the door is finally open. He looks up, gaping a little, into the eyes of a very tired Kuroo who is holding a phone against his ear.

Kuroo’s eyes widen minutely as he recognizes Akaashi, and he stops mid-sentence. “Um, I’ll call you back, Bo. Yeah… take care,” he murmurs into the receptor and cuts the call, sliding his phone into his sleep robe. “It would have been a pity if I had decided to go write my thesis at the college library today, hm?” Kuroo asks with a smile and leans casually against the doorframe. “What brings you here today, anyway.”

Akaashi forgets to respond for a moment and just looks at Kuroo in surprise. He looks—bad. He has dark circles under his eyes and his hair looks like it’s been through a tornado. And even under that smug expression he’s wearing Akaashi can see that Kuroo is exhausted and worn-out. Akaashi blinks, his mind working fast to try to figure out the reason why Kuroo might be like this.

Under such heavy scrutiny Kuroo visibly stiffens, shoulders tightening and arms coming to cross over his chest, brows furrowing in confusion. “Well? Akaashi, I know I’m denaturing your proteins because I’m so ho—”

“That,” Akaashi interrupts, pointing an accusing finger towards Kuroo. Kuroo blinks in surprise. “I hate that,” Akaashi says.

“Well, you know I’m a nerd,” Kuroo says with a smug grin and a shrug.

“No, not that,” Akaashi retorts. “Well, more or less.”

Kuroo remains speechless for a second, too dumbfounded to react, and then his expression turns into one of confusion and disbelief. “Akaashi. What?”

“There are  _ so many _ things I hate about you, and that cocky attitude is one of them,” Akaashi proceeds, taking a step forward and pressing his finger into Kuroo’s chest. “I hate you because you know that you have a perfect smile, or rather, I hate you because you make me  _ believe _ that you have a perfect smile.” This time Akaashi slams his fist into Kuroo’s chest, making him stagger in his defensive stance. They’re inside the entrance corridor now, the door wide open behind Akaashi’s back and letting the cold air inside. “I hate you because you’re dumb as hell but also one of the most caring people I’ve ever met. I hate you because those two sides of you are incompatible and I don’t know who you really are. I hate you because I don’t understand you or what your deal is, which makes me hate myself for thinking so hard about it. I hate you be—”

All of a sudden, the world goes dark. Akaashi realizes belatedly that it’s because Kuroo has wrapped his arms around him and has pulled him tight into his chest.

“Fuck. I hate you so much, Kuroo,” Akaashi continues, his voice muffled by the heavy fabric of Kuroo’s robe.

“I know,” Kuroo replies, to Akaashi’s deepest surprise. He chuckles softly, his warm breath fanning over Akaashi’s hair, his chest shaking lightly with the sound. “I know you hate me and I hate myself for it, too. Because I’ve been seriously stupid.”

“You have,” Akaashi grumbles.

“Because I was incapable of telling you that I’m into you.”

“Well, that’s your prob—What?!” Akaashi exclaims, pulling his head back and looking at Kuroo with furrowed brows.

Kuroo averts his gaze, cheeks taking on a light pink color. He clears his throat, “I, uh. Well, how do I put it…”

“You like me?” Akaashi murmurs.

Kuroo looks back at him. “Y-yeah?” He shakes his head. “That sounded hesitant. I do like you, Akaashi. Like, a lot. And from a really long time. I can’t even sleep with how much I think about you now. You’re smart and pretty and it’s so nice talking to you but I’m a jerk and…”

All the pieces fall into place in that moment. Akaashi stares at Kuroo as he goes on and on in front of him, but he’s stuck on four principal words:  _ I do like you. _

Akaashi realizes then that Kuroo really wasn’t joking when he said that it was “an honor” to become his boyfriend for an evening. Following that line of thought, Kuroo’s kind and caring behavior at the party had been true. It had all been very real. Akaashi had somehow known that, but now the perspective was completely different. And even the kiss…  _ especially  _ the kiss, it had been honest. Kuroo had laid himself bare for Akaashi that evening and Akaashi had been too blind to see what was right in front of him. What Akaashi thought had been a show to convince his family had actually been the reality Kuroo longed for.

Kuroo’s true side was the Kuroo at the party. The Kuroo in Bokuto’s house and through texts was a masquerade, one beneath which he was concealing all his feelings for Akaashi.

And Bokuto and Kenma had known about the whole situation all along, too. That’s what Bokuto had meant when he said Akaashi and Kuroo should, maybe, talk. And Oikawa’s assumption had been right as well. And as for himself—

_ Click _ . The last piece falls into the puzzle.

“I like you too,” Akaashi whispers.

Kuroo abruptly stops babbling into the void and looks down, mouth hanging open as he stares at Akaashi who is still nestled into his arms.

It happens almost naturally.

Akaashi’s palms find the familiar place at the back of Kuroo’s neck once more and curl there, but this time he’s the one to pull Kuroo down to meet him. The touch of their lips feels warm and soft, just like it felt back at the party—but this time it actually feels real.

When Akaashi pulls back, Kuroo chases his lips blindly and Akaashi can’t help but chuckle gently. He presses their foreheads together and smiles, feeling the molten gold of Kuroo’s loving gaze wrap around him and draw him in. Akaashi sucks in a deep, steadying breath.

“Can we… start all over again? This time, let’s do it the right way.”


End file.
